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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23692405">sand pit for emergent behavior</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/reogulus/pseuds/reogulus'>reogulus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Succession (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Episode s01e08: Prague, M/M, Manipulation, Sibling Incest, Situational Humiliation, Walking In On Someone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:41:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,795</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23692405</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/reogulus/pseuds/reogulus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m not, like, your little pet that you get to kick around. You think you can stick your finger in my ass and suck Kendall off at the same time, ride two horses with the circus getting into town? I know what you’re doing, you sick bastard. You think I can’t make your life difficult, but word in the right ear, and I could be your migraine, motherfucker.”</p>
<p>Set during 1.08 - Roman finds Kendall and Stewy together after talking to Sandy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kendall Roy/Roman "Romulus" Roy, Stewy Hosseini/Kendall Roy, Stewy Hosseini/Roman "Romulus" Roy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sand pit for emergent behavior</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>
  <span class="small">He enjoyed it, right? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="small">Oh yeah! I mean, you did too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="small">1.08, PRAGUE</span>
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After Tom disappears with that hot leggy blonde, Roman manages to find a handicap washroom, presses the door shut with his back against it, and punches the lock button with a balled fist. It’s fucking ridiculous and bordering on absurd how long it’s taken him to find a normal restroom here; every side door that looks like a bathroom, with a bathroom sign and all, turns out to be full of bodies piling on one another. Those fucking artsy fartsy pricks can’t do this one thing right, can they? Be it shit or piss or puke it’s got to come out from one orifice or another, that’s just basic logistics.</p>
<p>With that thought tucked away, Roman checks again to make sure the door is locked proper, then walks toward the mirror. It’s too dark to see out there but under the harsh fluorescent light, the armpits of his shirt are getting darkened with sweat stains, and he still hasn’t done the one thing he came here to do, what with his brother’s shitfucker friend dodging him like dodging a psycho ex. Stewy has been cozying up to Kendall like a shameless little whore all night, Kendall making it too easy for him by slipping back into that delusional, above-it-all bullshit, classic sign of a relapsing addict. If Roman were a betting man, he would bet one of his several houses on Kendall ending up dead in a ditch by the end of the night and taking Greg down with him.</p>
<p>Roman chuckles to himself at the thought. Then he looks down to survey the sink and countertop, all sad grey concrete. No discernible soap dispenser in sight—if he couldn't imagine how he can hate this place more, he knows now.</p>
<p>Roman walks back to the entrance, grits his teeth as he unrolls the right sleeve of his shirt, using the cuff to cover his hand as he goes through the unlocking motions. He will find Stewy, get Kendall’s dick out of that filthy mouth of lies and tie him up by his goddamn ankles if that’s what it takes; it’s not like there aren’t twenty rooms here dedicated to that very purpose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He makes his way down the dim dingy corridors, following the ebb and flow of the strobing lights shifting from corny yellow to tacky blue. There are a few people offering him drugs, a few more giving him overly performative slutty looks, to which Roman responds with the same look of utter boredom from under deeply furrowed brows—it’s one of his best impressions of Logan, and it always works when he needs people to fuck off without saying it in that many words. Down in a darker nook around the paper screen dividers, he recognizes Stewy from the back.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Roman tries to nudge Stewy from whatever bullshit conversation he’s having with the afro girl in the space suit. He’s getting tired of the sound of his own voice droning on about the same question for at least the fifth time tonight, and the fucker just says something about the hors d’oeuvres like he doesn’t even see who he’s talking to.</p>
<p>“Uh-huh, Ro-Ro, can you just be fucking cool, man? Maybe get a slider. Ask if you can stick your finger up someone’s ass, all right, buddy?”</p>
<p>And something snaps in Roman in that moment. Maybe it’s that tone of not even trying to mask the scent of the bullshit, maybe it’s the half-smile Stewy always wears around his lips when he talks to Roman. They’ve never been friends to begin with, to be sure, but this is not some eighth-grade melodrama about wanting to hang out with your older brother’s friends anymore. There is serious money involved, and if Kendall gets to talk to Sandy one-on-one about fucking hydrogen lamps, then Sandy sure as hell has time to hear what Roman has to say about local TV.</p>
<p>With all that said, it’s all but obvious that he’s been played right into this asshole’s hands.</p>
<p>“Hey, fuck you!” Roman spits it out in Stewy’s direction as a last-ditch effort, decides he might as well throw whatever shit at the wall and see what sticks. Stewy turns around and stays there facing him, at last. The space suit girl has gone the other way, wherever the fuck she came from, so Roman keeps going.</p>
<p>“I’m not, like, your little pet that you get to kick around. You think you can stick your finger in my ass and suck Kendall off at the same time, ride two horses with the circus getting into town? I know what you’re doing, you sick bastard. You think I can’t make your life difficult, but word in the right ear, and I could be your migraine, motherfucker.”</p>
<p>It pleases Roman to see Stewy’s face finally looking neutral, with his full attention tuned in on Roman. It actually pleases him a bit more than he cares to admit; suddenly Roman becomes very aware of the scent of sex, incense and sweat filling up the air around them. With their blazers, button-up shirts and slacks, they look painfully out of sync with the half-naked, body-painted partygoers milling around in the open spaces.</p>
<p>When Roman spits out the last word, Stewy looks at him for a moment, his eyebrows ever so lightly raised. Roman stares at his mouth, waiting for a retort, the wheels in his head already turning fast to come up with more insults he can toss at Stewy.</p>
<p>But Stewy just puts his hands up, all casual: “OK. All right, man, come with me. Don’t be so wound up. If you don’t fuck with drugs, just get someone to jerk you off.”</p>
<p>Roman nods. Something about the easy nonchalance in Stewy’s voice diffuses his irritation, but he purses his lips into a thin line and puffs his chest just in case. He lets Stewy put a hand around his shoulder and usher him along. It feels too easy, and he shouldn’t trust Stewy as far as he can throw him, but Roman has never been one to question easiness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They find Kendall sitting against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. There’s a shitty IKEA side table with a bunch of paraphernalia beside him.</p>
<p>“Well well well, look who’s getting in bed with my baby brother.”</p>
<p>Kendall lifts his head and waves. He says this in Stewy and Roman’s direction, but the tone is way too mellow to be construed an insult. Roman is about to get mad and call out one of the many names his coked-up brother deserves to be called, but something about the look on Kendall’s face, when he walks close enough to see it, stops the words cold in his throat. Something about it reminds Roman of the night he drove up to a drug den full of drugs he can’t even name, when Kendall patted him on the shoulder and said he’s OK. The night breeze of New Mexico carrying the putrid smell from the house, on Kendall’s jacket.</p>
<p>Roman turns to look at Stewy, tries for just a second to push the memory out of his mind. “Where’s Sandy?”</p>
<p>Stewy’s gaze lingers on Kendall, like he’s trying to add something up. “Ken. You good?”</p>
<p>“Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m good. It’s done. It’s all good.” Kendall slurs, propping himself up on an arm, legs buckle just slightly as he pushes himself to his feet. His pupils are blown as big as dice, and there is no doubt about the disgusting sewage sludge of illicit drugs sloshing around in his bloodstreams right now. Stewy steps forward, wrapping his arm around Kendall to keep him upright.</p>
<p>Kendall buries his nose at the base of Stewy’s neck, his voice coming out all mumbled, with his back towards Roman. “It’s all Rome’s, if he wants it. Ain’t that right, Stew?”</p>
<p>Stewy looks worried for the first time Roman’s seen him tonight—probably weighing the odds of having Kendall throw up all over him against the necessity of keeping Kendall alive. He makes an upward pointing gesture towards the stairs; the look he gives Roman says, <em>if I can shrug right now, I would</em>. “Sandy is up on the balcony bridge, tell him I sent you. If you don’t see him, ask the security guys.”</p>
<p>“Jesus fucking Christ,” Roman mumbles under his breath, turns his back on Stewy so quickly as if he saw something he shouldn’t. There aren’t that many steps to climb, not really, yet he feels heat rising to his cheeks. At the top of the stairs, Roman raises his hands to undo another button on his shirt, but on second thought he doesn’t: one should face the oldest, bitterest enemy of one’s father at a lawless sex party with some gravitas.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The talk with Sandy is more underwhelming than he expects, all soft dick noncommittal auto-reply jargon bullshit. But it’s enough to take home to dad at the next morning brief, so Roman takes it; better “it could happen” than “it couldn’t and I’ll flay your dad’s liver-spotted skin to make a hat while you eat his flesh raw”.</p>
<p>Roman shakes Sandy’s hand with as big a smile as he can muster at this hour and turns back to the stairs, his whole body feeling light as soon as he takes the first step down. It’s probably polite to find the nipple-ringed fucker and thank him for making good on his word, as frustrating and arduous of a process as that has been, but at least it’s gone according to plan and, fuck it, he can feel generous.</p>
<p>When Roman gets to the bottom of the stairs, the powder-streaked IKEA table is still there, but no sight of Kendall or Stewy. They’ve been weird around each other all night, no doubt probably up to something behind locked doors now to do drugs or god-know-what. It’s probably fine if Roman doesn’t go looking for them, his watch is reading 4AM and their car will be here soon anyway.</p>
<p><em>It’s probably fine</em>, Roman says to himself again, and walks back into the party. He's got a hunch as to where they are, it doesn’t take a genius, though he is one; there are only so many places for someone to throw up with some privacy in this disgusting building.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roman finds the door, gets a grip on the doorknob; to his surprise, it actually turns in his palm. For half a second, before he steps inside and turns his eyes to it, Roman is almost disappointed in himself for getting it wrong. The party music is growing distant here, barely within earshot behind the concrete walls of the rooms. So the sounds and sight of it catch his senses simultaneously, when Roman steps inside and sees.</p>
<p>“Fuck, Ken,” Stewy’s voice sounds breathier, more desperate than his real voice. He’s sitting sideways on the toilet, pants pooled at the ankles. And Roman can recognize the head of short dark hair moving and bobbing between Stewy’s thighs. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, the pale expanse of skin on his brother’s naked body seems almost blinding against the black and navy of Stewy’s clothes.</p>
<p>“Wow, this is,” Roman lets the door fall shut behind him. He doesn't hear the music anymore, not even from a distance, there’s only the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He’s not sure how to finish the sentence either, so the words just hang in the air between the three of them, stale and meaningless. Roman hasn’t had a drink since an hour ago, when he elbowed Tom towards that blonde sexpot who would totally be his dad’s type. He was bound by the straitjacket of the fucking rigged game that brought him to this forsaken place to start, and thoughts of tailing Tom to whatever area that would have allowed someone else to watch got his pulse quickened enough to almost pop a vein in his neck. He hasn’t realized he’s touching himself on the neck, on the same spot, until he hears Stewy calling his name.</p>
<p>“Roman,” Stewy calls out, gently pulling Kendall away from his crotch. “Can I help you, man?”</p>
<p>But it’s Roman who doesn’t look at him this time, as if Stewy’s voice doesn’t register with any meaning. Kendall has his eyes closed, lashes casting a light shadow that flutters with his breath. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t open his eyes to look; instead, he brings a hand up to his chin, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.</p>
<p>Roman feels his dick growing heavy at the sight of it. His pants are getting fucking tight; he wills himself not to look down. Instead, he walks towards the door, his hand shaking just slightly when he doesn’t reach for the doorknob but opting for the lock button.</p>
<p>Stewy whistles, flashes him a shit-eating grin. Like he’s really fucking genuinely amused, or impressed, or just purely delighted. He must have seen the growing bulge between Roman’s legs—fuck him.</p>
<p>“What do you think, huh, Ken?” Stewy traces the neat line of his beard with a finger, as if deep in thought. Then he lowers his hand, to Kendall’s mouth, the same finger tracing the jawline not unlike Roman’s own but ashy with traces of coke powder, and Kendall parts his lips to catch the fingertip in his mouth. Suckles on it without a sound, as if it is something tasty. Stewy responds with a moan, surely overexaggerated for the audience.</p>
<p>“Jesus,” Roman says, breathless. He has to lean against the sink to keep his legs steady, all his energy diverted to his knees and his hands, which he doesn’t know were to put. “You’re fucking sick, both of you. So this is fucking it, then? <em>I need to patch things up with him?</em>” Roman spits back what Stewy said that morning in the office, that whole pitch about Rhomboid.</p>
<p>Hook, line and sinker.</p>
<p>“I think it’s fine if you want to stay, Ro-Ro. Just say it, so we know.”</p>
<p>Kendall, who still hasn’t opened his eyes or said anything since Roman walked in, gives a shallow nod. Guided by Stewy’s other hand in his hair, Roman sees his jaw unhinge again. To finish the job.</p>
<p>Roman doesn’t want to watch. But his eyes widen, and a sound comes out of him, audible enough in bathroom acoustics.</p>
<p>“Fuck you and your manipulative shitty cool guy act, I hate you both,” he spits, properly this time, into his hand. With his palm slicked, Roman makes quick work of his belt and fly. He looks down to see the wet spot on his boxer briefs, swears again under his breath, and pulls his achingly hard dick out.</p>
<p>Stewy laughs, a chuckle cut short by a louder moan, and then a string of incoherent words like <em>you’re so good, baby, fuck, keep going</em>, punctuated only by the gurgling, sloppy sounds coming from Kendall’s mouth. Roman is properly fucking his fist to the sounds of it, the friction and shame of it all bearing down on him, and he knows his brain won’t let him forget how good it feels, how fucked up it must be that no one will believe what happened here in this room if he even wants to tell another soul. Like the fucking dog pound.</p>
<p>The thought of this almost undoes Roman. He stops himself only by burying his face in the curve of his elbow, and biting down where his sleeve is rolled, hard. Stewy is still going at it, almost unbearably noisy like he’s making a goddamn show of it, with both his hands holding Kendall by the base of his skull now, the motions rough and relentless enough that his dick is probably hitting the back of Kendall’s throat.</p>
<p>“Come here, Roman,” there’s an eagerness in Stewy’s voice that Roman would never have thought is possible to lend to his name. He hates it; he kicks off his pants, then underwear, and walks over without protest.</p>
<p>When Roman gets close enough, Stewy pulls his wrist hard enough that Roman almost yelps. From behind Stewy, looking over his shoulders, the view becomes unescapable and therefore unbearable.</p>
<p>“Look, Ken. Look how much he likes it.” The glee in Stewy’s voice is light as feather, almost entirely removed and impersonal in that lightness, exactly opposite of the heavy heat burning in Roman’s lower abdomen. Then, with a flutter of the eyelashes, Kendall’s eyes are open, looking up at them both.</p>
<p>“Come here,” Stewy says again, barely a whisper this time as he pulls Roman down by the collar, towards his face. He turns on his right side and meets Roman’s lips with his own—neither of them closing his eyes as the contact is made, as their tongues meet, as the kiss deepens. Kendall’s gone still now; those pupils are still blown huge and dark, his upper lip and the tip of his nose all slick and spit-shiny, the tip of Stewy’s erection still caught between his lips. But he’s watching, with unblinking eyes, like he really sees it, from beneath it all. Like he knew how it was always going to come to this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stewy goes quiet, eventually, when he comes. In the silence, Roman’s head can only draw up a blank.</p>
<p>“I’ll do Rome too,” says Kendall, standing up from the kneeling position as the kiss breaks between Roman and Stewy. It’s the first time Roman has gotten a good look at Kendall’s dick since they were prepubescent, and the first time he’s seen it half-hard. The thought of it only makes Roman harder. They’re so beyond fucked.</p>
<p>“All right,” Stewy nods, stands up from the toilet and walks aside. Kendall turns on the faucet, spits Stewy’s cum into the sink. Then he turns to Roman.</p>
<p>“Come over here,” Kendall finally looks his brother in the eye, his voice beyond monotone—impenetrable, the way mom always was when she found out the mistakes Roman tried and failed to hide from her. Out of everything so far, this is the thing that comes the closest to making Roman’s knees buckle.</p>
<p>So Roman slumps towards the sink without a word. He’s perfectly sober but the mirror seems to tell a different story, with his hair all disheveled, his eyes wild, his skin flushed from the neck up. Kendall comes towards him, wearing only his faded cotton art print t-shirt. He presses his body to Roman’s back, his erection almost lined up with the crack of his ass. Roman suddenly feels exposed, like the air is getting cold. Kendall wraps his arms around, hands coming together in front of Roman’s chest like it’s a hug from the back, more intimate than anything they’ve done together as brothers. Their gaze meets in the mirror; Kendall starts to undo Roman’s shirt buttons, not breaking their eye contact in the mirror. Roman swallows, hard, still trying to contain a whimper.</p>
<p>“Shhh,” Kendall whispers, his breath hot on the shell of Roman’s ear. Roman can only take it as a cue to stop thinking; he tries not to forget to breathe while he’s at it.</p>
<p>“Word around the office floor, Rome, is that you like your trainer to finger you up the butt when he blows you,” Kendall’s voice grows lower, darkened by lust. “What else does he massage, huh? It can’t be your muscles only, all that tugging and pulling for the whole office to see…”</p>
<p>Roman feels Kendall’s hand as it wraps around the base of his cock, damp and sleek with Stewy’s, giving him a tug as he says the last sentence. Roman groans, his head hanging low. He has to shut his eyes, feeling close to absolute agony and pleasure at once.</p>
<p>“Does it feel good?” Another slicked-up finger presses down between his ass cheeks, another voice. Not Kendall’s. Roman knows if he raises his eyes to look up now, he would see Stewy’s reflection joining his and Kendall’s.</p>
<p>“Shut up, nipple ring,” Roman gets the words out through gritted teeth. “Shouldn’t you, of all people, know that pain and pleasure work the same way?”</p>
<p>“Right,” Stewy laughs again, that grating lightness making Roman’s head feel dizzy. He's gone into the deep end of sensory overload, with Kendall stroking him with a cruel efficiency and Stewy working him open, scissoring two fingers. Roman’s entire weight is leaning on his two arms, braced painfully straight against the countertop, his legs too weak to support his weight and his arms are getting close to collapse too. He feels properly served up on a platter, a fucking hors d’oeuvre up for grabs, naked and open and immobile for any to step up and take. Kendall and Stewy, getting him there, keeping him right there where they want him, under their thumbs.</p>
<p>“Fuck you both,” Roman’s voice comes out raspy, breathy, like he's almost on the verge of tears. He hates it.</p>
<p>“In time,” Stewy mumbles in his ear, curling his finger a bit to hit the spot that makes Roman moan with his joint. “Didn’t I say when you got here, man? All things in time.”</p>
<p>When he comes, Roman shakes violently enough that Kendall has to steady him by the hips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stewy leaves first, making up some bullshit about introducing his girlfriend to Sandy before they have to go, when Roman is still doing up his buttons.</p>
<p>“Come on, dude, we’re not in junior kindergarten anymore,” Kendall adjusts the shoulders of his blazer, and looks at Roman’s hands with a smirk.</p>
<p>“Fuck you,” Roman’s said it enough times tonight that it comes out deflated without any force.</p>
<p>“Let me,” Kendall walks over and does the buttons for him, from the bottom up. Roman lets his hands fall to his sides, at first, but then he remembers. He grabs Kendall’s crotch—it’s gone soft, and he most certainly did not finish.</p>
<p>“The fuck is wrong with your dick,” Roman twists the corners of his mouth into a smirk, all but snide. “Surely a coked-up whore like you can get off on sucking dick only.”</p>
<p>Kendall laughs, like he doesn’t care if it’s true or not. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Look at yourself, Rome. You walked into the setup with your eyes open and then you walked into it again. Jesus. Still can't tell chow from chocolate cake?”</p>
<p>Roman rolls his eyes, heads to the door and punches the open button next to the door. Just as he’s about to walk out, Kendall squeezes past him, shoulder bone bumping into the side of his bicep hard enough to hurt.</p>
<p>"Asshole," Roman curses with a hiss. Kendall is no longer within earshot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hate how much I enjoyed writing this, and I hate that I saved <a href="https://hyperdecant.tumblr.com/post/615659152878026752/108-prague-dont-pre-rationalize-you-get">screencaps</a> of Kendall sucking coke off his finger and Roman touching his mouth and neck with a finger while rewatching this ep to figure out the choreography of how the events of this episode can be retconned to accommodate some titular "emergent behavior", to borrow Roman's words; but with all that being said I really had the most fun writing in Roman's voice! And everyone gets brownie points for spotting lines from canon that I repurposed here.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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